


Truth, A Bendable Rule

by gutwenching



Series: The Cure For Poison And Evil Curses (Is You) [2]
Category: We Have Always Lived in the Castle (2019), We Have Always Lived in the Castle - Shirley Jackson
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Begging, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, No Incest, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, but it looks like it, some plot?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:53:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22886620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gutwenching/pseuds/gutwenching
Summary: When cousin Charles visits the Blackwood house with a woman he claims is his sister, Merricat starts to suspect something entirely different is at play.Part of a larger series but can be read as a stand alone piece.
Relationships: Charles Blackwood/Original Female Character(s), Charles Blackwood/Reader
Series: The Cure For Poison And Evil Curses (Is You) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654420
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	Truth, A Bendable Rule

Were Charles an evil ghost, then she was nothing short of a phantom, a shell of what had once been a good woman, before the wickedness persuaded her to join him, Merricat understood. 

Be it with a spell or a poison, prying her loose from the man’s constricting grip was simply impossible. No spell would be able to help her. She was too far gone, immersed deeply in the curse Charles had her under.

It didn’t take long for Merricat to decipher the deceit cousin Charles sold off as the honey sweet truth. The moment the couple stepped foot into the Blackwood house, Merricat knew that Rosalie Blackwood was far from who Charles introduced her as. According to him, the woman accompanying him was his long lost sister. Reunited at Arthur Blackwood’s deathbed, they hadn’t left one another’s side since then.

“He sent for Rosie the moment he knew it was his time to go,” Charles mournfully informed Constance, who dutifully listened to her cousin with her chin rested in the palm of her hand. Merricat silently sat in the corner of their colorful kitchen, Jonas joined in her lap. The girl and her cat were quiet like spiders, listening in on the lies that Charles effortlessly spewed.

“It’s a wonderful thing, really. You can never have enough family.”

  
Well, that was something Merricat saw very differently.

  
Constance simply nodded out of politeness, one of her brightest smiles plastered on her face, it had been there since the moment Charles and his ‘sister’ arrived. Merricat saw uncle Julian and Constance light up for them. Their presence was a strange new spell. She was powerless before it. But they came unbidden and she would drive them away.

Where Charles stood tall like all the other Blackwood men Merricat had known, something that had almost slipped her mind as her uncle Julian had been seated in his wheelchair for the past six years, his faux sister barely reached his shoulder. Even the two sisters towered above Rosalie, as if it was set in the Blackwood genes like stone. It practically was.

Though Merricat herself was the exception to the rule, almost every Blackwood had trademark cobalt blue eyes. Her “cousin” however, did not. Hers held a peculiar green shade, one that reminded Merricat of the moss that grew near her creek.

And so, there were plenty of other factors that didn’t seem to add up to the Blackwood family tree. The shade of brown in her hair, the shape of her nose, upturned and smaller than hers or Constance’s, the darkened pink of her lips which she hid with a coral lipstick.  


They settled in father’s bedroom, together, something Merricat ascertained as undeniably odd.

  
“Oh, silly Merricat,” Constance smiled when she had inquired about it. “The two of us sleep in the same bed all the time.”

And while that was nothing short of the truth, Merricat turned up her nose for the explanation her older sister offered. Charles and Rosalie had, according to their story, only met a few weeks prior, how could they possibly have the same bond that Constance and she had? She thought it unviable.

The unusual relationship the supposed siblings had, was proven once again when young Merricat sneaked soundlessly through her own house a day past. It hadn’t been on purpose; she simply liked going unseen. She did not care for yet another double entendre behind her cousin’s words.

She could see them through the rods of the Blackwood manor’s staircase, as she stood there in silence. Neither cousin Charles nor his female companion had noticed her as they whispered their secrets to each other. Now, Merricat could not make out all the words spoken between the duo, but Charles’ lingering touch on Rosalie’s lower back, very near her bottom, did go far from unnoticed by Mary Katherine.

  
“… Might become a problem…”

“… Don’t understand why that is relevant to…”

“… Only for a little while until…”

  
It was near impossible for Merricat to tear her gaze away from the quarreling duo, their faces so close together that she was certain they could feel the heat of one other’s breath damping their skin. Rosalie’s cheeks had developed into a heated shade of pink during their argument, lips moving fast but quietly. Charles’s eyes seemed practically glued to her face as if overcome by _something_ , Merricat noted, something she hadn’t seen happen to him before.

During the course of their conversation, Charles’ hands had mindlessly shifted from the small of Rosalie’s back to a hand on either side of her waist, his own so close they would connect at the slightest of flinches. Her left hand lingered near the white fabric of his blouse, sleeve tight around his bicep. Her right hand, the one that had a diamond ring around it’s ring finger, something Merricat hadn’t noticed until now, was placed so casually over his heart that it almost seemed like it belonged there.

“Rosie,” Charles’ voice was louder now, brought from a low murmur to a steady talking volume. “It’s you. It’s always-“

  
“Mary Katherine!”

It had been Jonas who had given her position away. A loud, protesting meow was how he announced his annoyance with Merricat’s stillness.

Rosalie’s efforts at sliding away from Charles’ grip to tread coolly to the staircase was graceful, something someone from a low born family could not have managed, but her labors were futile. Had she known Merricat had stood there for however long, she would not have gotten so close to the man she claimed was her brother. Merricat saw it as a small victory.

She got closer and closer to discovering the truth.

“Cousin Rosalie, Cousin Charles,” she nodded, her tone near mocking.

“I hadn’t noticed you there, all by yourself in this big house,” Rosalie smiled, but the obvious nerves from getting _caught_ hadn’t subsided just yet. “You’re as quiet as that little cat of yours.”

“I’m not alone,” she pointed out. “The two of you were here.”

“Run along now, Mary Katherine,” when Constance wasn’t around, Charles put no effort into hiding his disdain for his younger cousin. “Go play.” 

Merricat had no issue with following the commands Charles had barked at her this time, knowing that she had won this battle of the war.

  
It wouldn’t be long now until Constance would believe her.

Moonlight filled her bedroom in a soft yellow glow, illuminating the ticking hands of the clock on her bedroom wall. Merricat had a hard time catching sleep, knowing that only a few feet away from her, cousin Charles and his non-sister laid sleeping.

  
Or were they?

  
She rolled over to the cool side of her bed, a sigh escaping from deep within her chest. Merricat could not expel the sight of Charles’ hands around Rosalie’s waist from her retina. She worried about their intentions as much as she worried for Constance’s safety, with the two threats present in their home. She could not allow them to whisk Constance away in their fast, red convertible.

Charles looked a lot like their father.  
Merricat wanted him dead and gone, just like their father.

  
_Thud_.

  
The Blackwood house had been an old house, and with old houses came strange noises. But this noise was far from strange. It came almost expected.  
It came from right beside her head, where her father’s room was. Where Charles and Rosalie stayed.

 _  
Thud_.

Merricat slipped from under the covers, her feet making contact with the hard wooden floor, almost inaudible. Very, very quietly, the girl made her way past her bedroom door and onto the hallway, where a sliver of light escaped from out of her father’s bedroom. Voices could be heard, muffled, but there.

“You need to be quiet, you might wake Mary Katherine.” As Merricat sneaked closer to the bedroom door, opened just enough so she could peak inside and hear the voices clearer, it was Rosalie who spoke up. “Her bedroom is right next door.”

Rosalie sat on her father’s bed, her legs crossed and her hands folded in her lap. She was clad in a simple silk nightgown. Merricat couldn’t help but disapprove of the simplicity of her choice. There was no sight of her cousin Charles.

“Shouldn’t I be the one to tell you that, dear sister?” from Merricat’s crouched position by the door, she could see a blush tint Rosalie’s cheeks at Charles’ teasing tone.

“You could always make me.”

A silence followed.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” his amused voice came from the smaller bathroom that neared the master bedroom, and then, his tall frame followed. He was still dressed in the white blouse he wore during the day, but his pants had been discarded. All that was left now were white boxer briefs.

“If it pleases you,” a fast exhale of air was heard from Charles, as he neared Rosalie’s sitting form. He had always been taller than her, but in her seated position, he truly towered above her.

A smile graced his lips as he pushed her chin up with his fingers, so her eyes were forced to meet with his _oh_ _so_ blue ones. She practically nuzzled into the warmth of his hand, Merricat noted, much like Jonas did when she petted him.

“It would please me immensely,” barely a whisper, Merricat could only just hear what he had said. She felt frozen in her tracks, unable to move, even as Rosalie’s hand trailed down and down. The touch of her cool fingers were a stark contrast with the warmth of the skin of his stomach. A shuddery breath escaped him.

Agonizingly slow, her fingers pulled down the elastic band of his boxer briefs, lower and lower, until…

“Fuck,” he breathed, a playful tug on her coffee brown hair as their eyes locked. His, dark and full of desire. Hers, eager and yearning. “Stop teasing.”

A small upturn of the corners of her mouth. She couldn’t help but enjoy her power over him when he was this impatient for her touch.

With a soft graze, she pulled out his cock, already half hard, the tip flushed in an angry shade of red. A soft gasp escaped her, and with it, the power had shifted. Charles’ lips were curled up in a smile at her eagerness. She was always so willing to please him.

“Open,” it was a simple command, one she followed with fervor. In no rush, he slid his cock in her wet, awaiting mouth. With the head of his cock hitting the back of her throat, she closed her lips around his throbbing length.

Questioningly, she looked up at him from under her eyelashes with him heavy on her tongue. Charles reveled in the sight of her around him, jaw slack and lips puffy. Eyes begging. _Fuck_.

“Say please.”

“Please,” she muffled around his cock.

A smirk bloomed on his face, and Rosalie knew exactly what was on his mind.

“Say please, _brother_.”

As gentle as she could, she pulled back from his now spit coated cock, and for this once, he allowed her disobedience. An angry glare came from down below, one that only egged him on. Oh, the things he would do to her…

“You’re a sick fuck, Charles Blackwood,” she bit at him, receiving nothing but a knowing glance in return.

“You knew that when you married me, Rosie,” he smiled, his hand gathering the long strands of her hair before pulling it back with a sharp yank that had her gasping. Taking advantage of her vulnerable position, Charles shoved his pre-cum coated tip down her throat.

Merricat’s eyes grew big with realization. _Married_. They were husband and wife. She felt stupid for only just noticing the golden band adorning Charles’ ring finger.

“How about I give you a matching necklace for that pretty ring, hm?” Charles rasped, his hips clumsily thrusting in Rosalie’s opened mouth. Her fingers clawed at his thighs, but her hips jutted up looking for relief, her core burning with desire and neglect.

“My pretty little whore,” he murmured as her throat vibrated around his length in a moan. His tanned fingers were clasped around the back of her head, her hair a tangled mess as he thrusted his pulsing length relentlessly in her wet heat.

“Look at me,” he instructed when her moss colored eyes shut, overcome by the emotions he provoked inside of her. “Look at me. God, you’re so beautiful. Are you wet for me?”

Her eyes opened, oh so eager to please him, as she nodded down on his cock, a choking sound escaping from the back of her throat. He only reveled in it as he held her face still, a stark contrast with the fervor in which he fucked her throat, only seconds ago. He allowed for her to pull back just a tiny bit, so air could fill her neglected lungs.

“You want me to fill you up, don’t you?” he whispered to the drooling mess around his cock, earning a longing whine in response. “And you’ve been such a good toy for me, haven’t you?”

Another moan, extracting a low chuckle from deep within him. Letting one hand fall free from her face, he pushed down the thin strap of her nightgown, exposing one hardened nipple. She could feel his cock throb at her nakedness in her mouth, and a content sigh escaped her.

“Are you gonna be a good, quiet, little slut for me?” he softly asked her, tugging at her hardened nipple. She carefully nodded, as he slid away from in between her lips. She couldn’t deny that she despised the emptiness her on her tongue, the saltiness he usually left her with not there. 

With a keen press of his warm hands in between her shoulder blades, he urged her to lie face down on the mattress of Merricat’s father’s bed.

“Sshhh,” Charles softly bit in Rosalie’s shoulder as he bunched the fabric of her simple nightgown around her waist, her chest and the inviting heat between her legs exposed to multiple pairs of eyes, without their knowledge. _No panties_.

His fingers at her wettened cunt were a relief, and Rosalie rewarded Charles with a moan in the mattress. Charles chuckled, one finger pressed deep inside of her, pumping up and down in a lazy pace while his thumb traced her hidden pearl in soft circles.

“More,” she begged, hips grinding impatiently down on his fingers. “Please, Charles.”

“ _Yes_ ,” he whispered, his undeniable lust for her impetuously throbbing between his legs as he added a second finger in her heated core. “God, you’re soaked for me.”

“I want your cock,” she whispered against the mattress, her cheeks burning at her mischievous confession.

“What was that?” Charles deep voice asked teasingly, having her confession perfectly clear. Even Merricat had heard it, her ears dusted a deep pink.

“I need your cock, Charles,” she whimpered, grinding her hips against his stilled fingers.

The cool spit of her mouth left on his cock at her entrance made her gasp, making her feel feverish with desire.

With one swift movement, he shoved his thick shaft in her tight heat, and an amused chuckle left Charles.

“So tight and wet for me,” he breathed against the back of her head as he slowly started to pick up the pace. The sound coming from between her legs was obscene, but they didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered by it. “Tell me.”

Overcome by the full feeling his cock brought her, it was hard to get a single noise out.

“Tell. Me,” he urged with every deep thrust. “Tell. Me. Who. Your. Pussy. Is. Soaked. For.”

“Y-you,” she whimpered, pushing back against his steady pace, desperate to get his thrusts to fill her up all the way. “It’s all for you. Always.”

“Good girl,” he rewarded her with a fervent rub between her legs, and it didn’t take long for the familiar heat to build up, sudden and strong.

“Is my good girl gonna cum for me?” he all but growled near her ear, thrusting home between her slick folds. She moaned in response, her legs shaking with her approaching orgasm.

“Cum,” his voice seemed barely a distant whisper as the tightened knot undid itself at the lowest point of her belly, waves of heat coming over her as her legs heavily shook underneath Charles’ tall frame. Somewhere that seemed galaxies away, she felt how he spilled in her with a satisfied groan, filling her to the brim with his hot cum, sure to coat her thighs once he’d pull his softened cock out of her.

By the time they had come down from their shared climax, Merricat had long since turned away from the entangled bodies, nodding to herself. She had seen enough. Constance was sure to believe her now.

**Author's Note:**

> This was something different than what I'm used to writing, so I’m curious to how it will be received.  
> Let me know if you would like to see any more content for these two, I have plenty of ideas surrounding them!
> 
> Feedback is always greatly appreciated! :)


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